Green Wyvern Yachting Club
Working our way through various promotions of the Green Wyvern Yachting is both nerve-wracking and rewarding. We can all probably recall how we were expected to show knowledge, initiative and various skills, in justifying the faith others had bestowed upon us. Alex describes her first cruise as Acting Mate.
The summer GWYC sailing season started for me with a harsh bump as I realised I actually had to take some responsibility as an acting mate. I soon realised, however that despite the huge burden on my shoulders of subjecting three other people to my cooking for a week, that the Red House at Cantley was nearby and all was forgotten (and, I hope, forgiven).
Sunday arrived and I learnt the value of a skipper (Emma) who can’t live without tea in the morning but who is happy to make it herself. I don’t drink tea or coffee and getting up especially early to make other caffeine addicts their fix for the day does not fill me with joy. A long day ensued and finally ended at the limit of navigation in Norwich. So many pubs! We couldn’t let that opportunity go to waste so a rather large night was enjoyed by a number of GWs who will remain nameless but their relative silence and lack of enthusiasm the next morning provided a clue to their identity.
Our return to Cantley for the following night was fairly uneventful which was a blessing considering the next few days and nights on Stella The Berney Arms was our next night-time destination . . . little did we know that we would nearly crash into river works and have a completely nightmarish mooring. The tide was incredibly strong and with us, the wind behind us, and paddles and crutches were brought out in force. The mud weight provided less help than we hoped and there was no mooring space. After about half an hour we finally managed to moor alongside a motor-cruiser, exhausted, to find that the rest of the club had encountered similar problems.
The morning came around all too quickly as we had to get up remarkably early to catch the tide up the Bure. As we moored by the coal wharf it began to rain but we made it to Acle Bridge and we were ready to carry on to Thurne. Emma and I were keen to do some more sailing and we finally persuaded the crew that just a quick trip further up the river was a great idea. I think we both wished we hadn’t.
On our turn to go back we became intimately acquainted with the forward cabin of a motor-cruiser which seemed to lack any knowledge of the way a sailing boat moves. An hour later when the forestay had been cut, the bowsprit was on the deck, the wicker-martin in ruins and Emma and I were covered in fibreglass, we finally attached the motor and returned to Thurne, not too happy. Thankfully, there were showers for us to wash away those blues (it didn’t work by the way), and Andy and John to rustle up a makeshift forestay.
Thursday saw us going to Womack for lunch and then on to Ranworth for dinner
. . . no room at the inn although Force Four managed to find one mooring near the pub, so Gordon could be nearer the beer. We had to moor on the island and Stella, propelled by the hefty lads of the club wielding paddles, provided a very comfortable ferry service to the pub and back again. The next morning we left for Horning where Andy Gordon experienced abuse by landlord’s teacup. Stella decided she was too tough to need a lunch break and we ploughed on to Wroxham with plenty of quanting involved.
In an effort to locate Mels, we sailed over to the club on the broad and then I managed to let the paddle go MOB in the middle of a race. Not too popular was I. After a quick peek at Storm we continued on to Wroxham proper as the crew were so eager to clean the boat. Lovely boys. Despite a motor-cruiser seeming to think that a sailing boat, with its mast down, pointing straight into the middle of the bridge, and going at a decent quanting pace, can reverse at great speed to allow them through first, we made it to the mooring almost intact. Glossing over the cleaning hell that Em and I experienced, Godwit and Stella spent the remainder of their food money on a curry which hit the spot quite nicely. While the rest of the mooring retired for an early night, the Green Wyverns enjoyed a party on Stella with plenty of beers.
All in all my first experience as a mate and nanny was greatly enjoyed and I can’t wait till next year.
AH
1999